Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Kuwait and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing a-ha to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Kinks,
Yellowson,
Y Pants,
Wolf Eyes,
Radio Birdman,
Section 25,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Sixth Finger,
Technova,
The Misunderstood,
One Last Wish,
MDC,
Black Pus,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Danielle Patucci,
World's Most,
Lower 48,
Sam Rivers,
China Crisis,
Anakelly,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mojo Men,
Funkadelic,
The Remains,
Lindisfarne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Jandek,
Aural Exciters,
AZ,
The Barracudas,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Red Krayola,
X-102,
Khruangbin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Banda Bassotti,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eden Ahbez,
Rapeman,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Cale,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glenn Branca,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.